


Rough Night

by lastrisorto



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, extreme dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24978397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastrisorto/pseuds/lastrisorto
Summary: You are having, to understate it, a pretty bad night. Your botched assassination attempt on the head of the Phantom Troupe resulted in your embarrassingly quick capture and the position in which you now find yourself. It wasn’t entirely your fault.
Relationships: Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader, Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 227





	Rough Night

You had no idea who the handsome young man was, when your client handed you a photo and your consultation fee. He spun you a story about how the man had stolen from him in some business dealings. It was unforgivable, he assured you without prompting, and this man needed to be made an example. Gave you a name, and a picture, and your up-front fee. The rest was to be paid upon proof of death. You asked if your target had any skills that may be threatening to you, or hinder your success in fulfilling your client’s wishes. Your client merely shrugged, assuring you that as far as he knew, he was just a cocky young businessman, if an unscrupulous one. Had you known that Chrollo Lucilfer was the man in charge of the single most notorious gang of thieves and killers, you would have turned down the job immediately. You’re not suicidal, after all. Unfortunately for you, that particular realization didn’t hit until it was far too late. 

…

At the ball your target was said to be attending, you swept through the crowd in a simple black gown, cocktail glass in hand. While you scanned the crowd for your target, you had no idea that he had already locked onto you. You were so pleasantly surprised when your target came right up to you, bold as brass, complimenting your appearance and making small-talk for a few minutes before inviting you to dance. He took your glass from your hand, turning to place it with his on a small table near the edge of the dance floor. You saw an easy chance, and summoned your nen to slip the pill out from the lining of your clutch, maneuvering it around, out of his sight, and into his drink on the table. 

“So you’re an emitter, then? That’s really neat. What kind of stuff can you do with that?” Chrollo’s eyes were large and curious, his tone light, and you wondered if he was really this naive, how he could have made such a fool out of your client. But it wasn’t your job to empathize with your target, regardless of how attractive and charming he was. He didn’t seem to have noticed what, exactly, you had moved. Only that you had activated your nen. Which was alarming enough, given that he was supposed to be a non-nen-user. Hm. 

“Oh, you know, just moving stuff around, mostly.” You laughed lightly, trying to deflect the conversation. In reality, you had uprooted entire trees before with your nen to hurl them at a target. Though you were proficient with hand to hand combat and many weapons, your nen was just another useful tool in your assassin arsenal. He seemed to take your explanation, smiling enigmatically as he led you to the dance floor. 

Chrollo pulled you close, leading you in a slow dance. You relaxed a little, leaning in against him, your right hand in his, your left sliding around his tapered, firm waist to rest at his lower back. You frowned. He had something tucked into the back of his pants, it felt like. Under his suit jacket. You pulled back, looking up at him in confusion. You slipped your hand under the back of his jacket, slipping the rectangular item out as you pulled away from your dance partner. You finally looked down at what you held, and were surprised to see a book with a large handprint on the cover, partially obscured by your own hand. You frowned down at the book before offering it back to him, feeling a moment of dizziness. Chrollo moved back into your space as though to continue dancing, blocking your expression from the other coupled dancers, maneuvering you to the end of the dance floor nearest the exit. You should have been able to anticipate the blow that knocked you out. You should have felt it coming and been able to counter it with your nen. Should have. The last thing you saw as Chrollo “helped” your mostly limp form outside for some “air” was the shift in his demeanor. The coldness in his grey eyes. And you realized then, that your client had deceived you, that this man was anything but harmless.

…

You wake again, strapped down to a table in a nondescript room, the only light coming from the candles littered throughout the room. It is the same table, the same room that you had awakened in the time before. And the time before that. You are starting to get fuzzy on the details of how many times you’ve been unconscious, and you have no idea how long it’s been since you left the ball. You hear a soft clap of vellum on leather, and turn your head to see that Chrollo has closed the book in his hands, the glow of his nen subsiding as he stares dispassionately at you from the other side of the small room. Between returning to wherever you are being held and you waking up, he had undergone a transformation, and though his clothes are more eccentric than the suit he was wearing when you met him, there is no question for you which was the costume. Hair slicked back, forehead tattoo on display (now, that was a detail you would have recognized from the bounty profiles, if your employer had only been honest), long coat, and leather pants...even his demeanor seems to have changed. He stands straight, authoritative. Chin held high as he watches you wake again. 

“Feitan,” Chrollo addresses the only other person in the room, the reason for your frequent lapses of consciousness. The smaller man looks up from the tool he was cleaning while his boss revived you. He sets the nasty looking plier-shear hybrid down and turns to face his leader. 

“I think you’ve done all you can. She’s obviously accustomed to torture. If she’s a trained assassin, that makes sense. Perhaps, even though this fly is already in our web, it’s time to see if honey can loosen her lips faster than vinegar. There’s one Spider I think would be well-suited to the sort of honeyed charms I’ll need. If he’s available.” You’re almost certain you see Feitan roll his eyes, but he starts for the door. He’s stopped in the doorway as another figure steps into the light, but the torturer skirts around the newcomer, leaving the room. 

“No need to call. I was in the area.~♤” The voice from this new man is...suggestive. If someone’s voice can be considered suggestive when they’re saying perfectly innocent things. Not that anything about this situation was innocent, but...you glance down your body, strapped down as it was. Your dress had long ago been shredded and soaked with blood, and your underwear and bra are the only things keeping you decent. You don’t appear to have more than a few scratches, though. Seems like every time Feitan would render you unconscious with pain, Chrollo would use one of his (you felt incredibly, embarrassingly slow at how long this series of realizations had taken you, but in realizing the sudden absence of your nen, you started to piece it all together) stolen abilities to heal you. He would heal you so thoroughly, in fact, that your throat isn’t even sore, which feels like a betrayal, to not bear testament to the screams garnered from the pain leveled upon the rest of your body over the last...however long. You are a little grateful for the momentary reprieve from the pain, though. 

You look up as the other man makes his way into the room, recognition hitting you and entwining with the fear to settle into a cold ball in your gut. Hisoka. You knew of him from his ties to the eldest Zoldyck son, scuttlebutt as prevalent in the assassin community as any. You didn’t know he is part of the Spider. Well, it’s not like they advertise their member list or anything. But still, it’s a surprise. The taller man moves past the Troupe boss, dramatically touching a pointed nail to his pale lips, inquisitively.

“And what lovely toy do you have all trussed up here, Danchou?~❤” If he recognizes you from anywhere, he’s not showing it. That’s fine. He probably doesn’t recognize you at all. 

“She tried to kill me. Sloppily, but still. I brought her back here to find out who hired her, but she’s withstood Feitan’s methods thus far.” Chrollo’s voice holds both respect and irritation at your fortitude, and he sighs as he puts both hands in the pockets of his coat. He closes his eyes and turns his head as though he doesn’t want to ask. 

“If you’ll step outside with me, I have some ideas I’ll need your help for.”

“Ooh, that sounds _thrilling_.~❤” Hisoka and Chrollo both step outside the door, and you strain to hear what they might be saying. No luck, though; they’re both being very quiet, and you have no nen to sharpen any of your senses. That’s going to get old, fast. Assuming you survive whatever they have planned. 

After a few moments, they both walk back in. Chrollo’s face bears that same impassive, contemplative look, and Hisoka’s gold eyes are alight with amusement. Hisoka approaches the table you’re strapped to, narrow eyes sliding down your form as he runs his tongue along his top lip. He reaches out, dragging the tips of his nails down your stomach to the front of your underwear, using both hands to rip them at the hips. He tosses the useless scraps of fabric to the side and smiles. You shiver at the exposure, but meet his gaze. You are a trained assassin. You’re not going be intimidated by a little rough treatment. Especially after what Feitan just put you through. 

Chrollo circles around to stand at the other side of the table. He starts unfastening the straps holding you down, but before you can even attempt to struggle, you feel something sharp slicing the delicate skin of your neck, just above your jugular. Staying very still, you look from the corner of your eye to see a playing card pressed against your neck, a small trickle of blood beginning to run from where its corner digs in.

“Try to escape, and you die. Try to fight us, and you die. You’re outnumbered both inside this room and inside this building. You’re unarmed and without use of your nen. The only way I _may_ decide to let you live is if you cooperate and tell me who hired you. Acknowledge that you understand.” Though it’s Hisoka’s card threatening your life, it’s Chrollo’s voice that informs you of the terms of your release. Chrollo’s hands smoothly move over the remaining straps at your feet, and within moments, you’re unbound. Hisoka regards you with interest, obviously wondering what you will choose, his expression evidence that he would be just as happy to spill your life onto this table as he would be to continue whatever charade Chrollo has planned. Maybe moreso. 

“Mm-hmm.” You don’t want to nod for fear it will be interpreted as a struggle, but you’re also not exactly talking to either of these men. Your ways to acknowledge your understanding are limited. 

“Good. Get on your knees.” As you sit up from the table, Hisoka removes his card from your neck, disappearing it absentmindedly. You quickly move to obey, sliding to your knees a few feet away from the table on the rust-colored floor. You suspect you’re to credit for at least some of that color scheme. 

You’re starting to see the shape the rest of your encounter with these men will take, but when weighing your options, it still seems like the preferable path. Ultimately, the important thing is for you to leave with your life. You aren’t interested in giving up the name of your client. It would be extremely unprofessional, and you don’t have the history and clout of celebrity like the Zoldycks to buffer your career and protect it from the negative press. However, a career doesn’t do you any good if you’re dead. And your client did give you the bad information that got you into this. You’d need to mull it over some more. 

You’re surprised from your musings as Chrollo moves to stand in front of you, unfastening his belt and unzipping his pants. Hisoka crouches behind you, pinning your wrists together easily in one hand. He releases them, and you find that your wrists are still pressed together, presumably by the power of his nen. Chrollo’s cock, flushed and mostly hard, nudges against your cheek as he holds it by the base, looking down at you. 

“No teeth. Understand?” You nod, opening your mouth to take the head between your lips. Salty precum beads at the tip, and you swirl it with your tongue, bobbing experimentally along his length. Flattening your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper toward your throat, and he releases his grip on his shaft, moving his hand to tangle in your hair. 

Hisoka, meanwhile, has unclasped your bra, determined that this doesn’t help much with your hands bound, and sent your bra the way of your panties. His hands tease from your hips, around your stomach, and up to cup your breasts. He plays with your nipples, tweaking and rolling them between his dexterous fingers, occasionally catching a sharp nail on one, drawing shameful noises from you. He presses against your back, kissing and biting your neck and shoulders. You can feel his cock pressing against your lower back, and you wonder briefly as to when he lost his pants. 

Chrollo smirks, looking down at you.

“I’ve never understood assassins. To have mastered a skill to such a degree, then to only use it when you’re _bought_. Well. Past assassins I’ve had dealings with were masters of their craft,” he gasps, his hand tightening in your hair, forcing himself down your throat for a few thrusts, “~Oh, you, though. You may have a more promising career, selling your body in other ways. Mm.” 

You roll your tongue against the head of his cock, sucking hard as you mouth at his shaft. You really, mostly just want to shut him up. He’s standing there, fucking into your mouth as he insults you, but the worst part is how the sound of his voice, hitching at the pleasure you’re giving him, is sending an enjoyable kind of heat to pool in your loins. Hisoka isn’t helping any, one hand on your breast, the other dipping lower to trace between your folds. He finds your clit and starts rubbing slow circles around the sensitive bud. You feel your pleasure start to build from Hisoka’s ministrations as Chrollo pulls you in to take him to the hilt, releasing down your throat with a groan. You gag a little at the sudden volume at the back of your throat, and he thankfully pulls out, letting you get some air. Chrollo tucks himself back in his pants, walking away within the room.

Hisoka uses your distraction to tip you over, and you land on your shoulder and the side of your face on the ground. Ass in the air, hands still bound. You can’t be too put off by how undignified the position is, however, as he only waits a moment before resuming his ardent circling of your clit. You feel him press his cock against your opening, and for a moment, you regret not being able to turn around and look. You’d heard a rumor he was well-hung, and were increasingly curious. He quickly confirms your suspicions when he inches into you, and you can feel his girth pressing your walls outward. After bottoming out, he remains still for you to adjust to the stretch, before he begins to move. 

If Chrollo is ice, Hisoka is fire. He quickly finds a fast, hard pace, his hips slamming against yours with every thrust. He’s so big. He hammers your cervix in a way that should be unpleasant, but it just feels so deep and primal. And his fingers never stop. It takes you no time at all to come hard around him as he pounds into you, and you try to be quiet. You really do. But at some point when he started hitting both your cervix and your G-spot on half his thrusts, your mouth dropped open and never closed. It’s hard to be quiet with your mouth open. You treat Hisoka (and Chrollo, wherever he went) to your moans and whines as he doesn’t slow his pace at all while you come down from your high. You hear Chrollo laugh softly, and you try to look in that direction.

“You already sound like a whore. You may as well tell me what I want to know, so we can let you get on with your new life.”

You feel Hisoka’s hand gripping your hair, pulling you backwards to arch your back, somewhat painfully without your hands available to support your weight. You are very aware of how vulnerable you are as he slams into you; it wouldn’t take much for Hisoka to accidentally snap your neck in this position. For some reason, that thought sent a pulse straight to your cunt, and Hisoka doesn’t miss it.

“Oh~! That’s it. You _like_ it when I fuck you like this. You feel so good around me. You’re so- mm~❤” he trails off into a long moan, and his hips stutter against yours as he cums pressed deep into you. 

Hisoka helps tip you back onto your knees, and you look over to see Chrollo sitting on a narrow futon in the corner. You hadn’t noticed it in the dim light, but it looks like he may have lit more candles as well. He is leaning back against the wall, watching you and Hisoka and stroking himself. Apparently, he is already good to go another round. 

You feel Hisoka’s release begin to leak out of you, and your eyes widen a little, realizing that this is going to get messy. Hisoka picks you up by your elbow, giving you a shove over to the futon. He has you lie on your back next to Chrollo, who is still slowly pumping his cock, and he spreads your legs. He presses his face between your thighs and laps at your opening, running his tongue up to your clit. He eats you out with a passion, alternating between fucking you with his tongue and licking over your clit. He flattens his tongue against the bud, taking long, slow licks, before mimicking the motions of his fingers earlier. Your orgasm hits hard, and this time, you’re shocked to hear your own voice calling his name as you cum on his tongue. Hisoka laughs as he comes up, rewarding you with a kiss. You taste both yourself and his release on his tongue, an oddly intimate flavor for the situation. 

You’re trying to catch your breath, wrists still bound behind you. Chrollo grabs you by your hips, pulling you onto his lap with ease. You’re balanced precariously, relying entirely on him to keep you upright as he lifts you onto his cock, sliding against your folds to gather your slick before positioning himself at your entrance and working his way into you. He thrusts up from a sitting position, holding your hips down, keeping you from falling over. He leans in to capture a nipple in his mouth, biting gently and flicking it with his tongue. You groan at the sensation, too fucked out to pretend not to be enjoying yourself at this point. Chrollo rolls his hips up into yours, lazily fucking into you as he explores your breasts and trails kisses up your neck. 

Hisoka slides closer on the futon, reaching a hand between you to play with your breast, and Chrollo shoots him a look that you can’t decipher. Hisoka stands huffily, gathering up the rest of his clothes and making his way to the door.

“It’s not fun if you keep all the toys for yourself, Danchou. ◆” He walks out.

Chrollo hasn’t stopped slowly thrusting into you. His teeth grip the side of your neck, and he wraps one hand behind your lower back to hold you in place while his other hand seeks your clit. You’re pretty sure he’s bruising up your neck pretty badly. Oh well. He sits forward a little, and it changes the angle of his hips just _so_ , and you gasp. 

“Chrollo-” You don’t quite know what you want to ask him.

“Mm?”

“Just like that. Please don’t stop.”

He presses his lips against your throat, chuckling and speeding up a little. The nen around your wrists is released suddenly, and you grab Chrollo’s shoulders for support. He loosens his grip on your waist, cupping your ass with the hand not stimulating your clit, and keeps slamming up into you. The tightness that has been building while he’s been fucking you finally snaps, and you lean into the crook of his neck, groaning his name as you clench around him. He lasts a few more thrusts before pushing your hips against his thighs as he pumps his release into you. 

You untangle yourself as best you can from Chrollo’s legs, flopping onto the futon. You’re a mess from all the torture and sex. You look up at Chrollo, who is leaned back on his hands, catching his own breath. 

“If I give you the name of my client, will you give me my nen back and let me go?” You’re not too hopeful, but it’s worth asking before you decide to do something stupid. Chrollo mulls it over for a minute.

“Perhaps. Your nen isn’t particularly useful for me. And I don’t think you’re going to make the same mistake twice. Are you?”

You shake your head. It would take a while to build your credit back up, but your life was well worth it. Though, if your path did cross with Hisoka’s or Chrollo’s again, you suppose you wouldn’t _hate_ it.


End file.
